Chapter 32
I did something that was long overdue. I called my mother.
Or I tried, anyway. But for a solid hour, I hung up each time I dialed her number.
Dawn had made a point of going for a walk so I could speak with my mom in peace, but somehow I just couldn’t bring myself to let it ring on the other end. What did I even want to say to her? So much had happened between us, that it wouldn’t be enough to say, “Hey, thanks for making my life a living hell these past few years.”
Besides, I’d been thinking about Dawn’s words for days now. If not for that awful experience with Anderson and my mother’s abominable behavior, I never would have moved to Woodshill. And without this new beginning, I never would have made these wonderful friends. I hadn’t ever been in love—and never thought it would happen to me. And I wouldn’t have learned so much about myself, grown so much. Without all these experiences I would not be who I am now. And I kind of liked myself. In other words, things were going well, in a way.
Taking a deep breath, I pressed redial and raised the phone to my year.
Mom picked up.
“Crystal.” As she pronounced my name, a shiver ran down my spine. “I knew you’d call, sooner or later.”
I ignored her pointed remark, even though I wanted to jump through the phone and shake her.
“Hello, Mother,” I said, trying to sound polite. My pulse was racing. “How are you?”
Take small steps, I reminded myself. Don’t put everything on the table all at once.
“How am I supposed to be? You embarrassed me at my own gala! You show up with some random punk, and—”
I barely heard her next words. An unusual calm descended on me. Now I knew I’d make it.
“Mom,” I interrupted.
“I’m talking, Crystal. You asked me a question, so you can listen to the answer.”
“I didn’t call for you to beat me up.” I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling.
“To what do I owe the honor, then?”
“You were expecting me to come to the gala, weren’t you?” I waited for her answer.
None came.
“If you were expecting me, as you yourself said in Lincoln, then how could you allow Russell Anderson to be there?”
She sucked in a breath.
“At first I didn’t want to think about it, you know,” I said. “I wanted to be done with this once and for all. But the more I thought about it—how could you do it, Mom?”
Again, silence.
I cleared my throat. “Russell didn’t rape me. But he abused me. He left a scar on my soul. I told you everything; I trusted you. And what do you do? You invite this man into our home and give him an award in front of my eyes.” I lay my arm over my eyes. I wasn’t going to cry. I just wanted closure, wanted to make her see what she had done to me, make her understand once and for all why I’d left home to make a new life. “How could you do this to me, Mom? I’m your daughter. You’re supposed to protect me, but instead you let me run into an open knife.”
Now my mother snorted.
“You think it was easy for me?” she asked in a quavering voice.
“That’s how it seemed, yes,” I admitted.
“You have no idea how hard it was for me to tolerate having that man in my house!” she hissed.
“Then why didn’t you do something about it?”
She was quiet again.
“He donated lots of money, Crystal,” she then whispered. “This year, too, for the charitable organization,” her voice grew louder. “I had no choice. You know how it is in our circles.”
I wanted to laugh. Just then the door opened a crack and Dawn peered inside. Seeing I was on the phone, she started to withdraw. But I waved her back in.
Sitting up, I indicated the spot next to me. Dawn climbed onto the bed, wearing a worried expression.
“I know how it is, Mom. But that doesn’t mean your own daughter couldn’t expect a little more help from you.”
“I kept him away from you, Crystal. I did everything in my power to prevent him—”
“If you had done everything in your power, you’d never have let that pig set foot in our home,” I interrupted her. “You would have done what every normal mother would do—keep me safe and put that creep behind bars. Instead, you forced me to dress more modestly and then accepted the dirty money he gave you to keep quiet. You left me alone with my fear.”
I heard her sharp inhale, but I wasn’t finished yet.
“I don’t want to live in the past anymore, Mom. I moved to Woodshill to start over. Not because I wanted to make life hard for you and Dad. I just wanted to breathe free again. But it won’t work until we’ve cleared the air about this.”
The line was quiet as death.
“I’m trying to forgive you, trying to deal with this Russel stuff, and trying to build a life here. But I can’t do if you keep trying to influence my decisions.”
I squeezed my eyes shut to suppress my tears. Dawn grabbed my hand and held it tight.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Crystal, I just wanted the best for our family,” my mother said, and I knew that this was the only apology I would ever get from her. That was it. But at least I’d said everything that I should’ve said years ago.
“You hurt me, Mom. A lot. And on Thanksgiving you showed me again that my feelings mean nothing to you. You allowed me to attend this event even though you knew he’d be there. Saving face in front of your friends was more important to you than your daughter’s well-being.”
She took another breath as if to speak—but remained silent. Dawn raised her eyebrows at me, and I shrugged. Mom said nothing. And then:
“So I drove you out of our home?”
“I’m not returning to Lincoln any time soon. Woodshill is great.”
“You belong in a big city, Crystal,” she snorted. “Not in a village where everyone drives around in rusty trucks.”
She almost made me laugh.
“I’m not Crystal any more, Mom. I haven’t been for several months now. My friends call me Allie. Maybe you can accept that I am building a life for myself here, a life that can make me happy,” I repeated the words I’d prepared in my head before calling. “I don’t want to shut you out of my life, Mom. That doesn’t help you, or me—but if you can’t accept who I am, there’s no other choice.”
Dawn squeezed my hand so hard that my knuckles cracked.
“I can’t accept the path you’ve chosen. Whatever you think of me, I only want the best for you. And that is, in my opinion, not Woodshill and certainly not a tattooed thug who’ll only lead you astray.”
Her words stung.
“If she’s being mean, just hang up, Allie,” whispered Dawn, pantomiming the action.
“You’re welcome to visit me. Or not. It’s up to you. But I’m not coming back.” I paused. “And now I have to hang up.”
Mom sucked in another breath.
“Take care, Mom. If you want, say hello to Dad for me,” I said in a somewhat forgiving tone.
“Take care, Cr—” She caught herself. “Take care, Allie.”
I hung up and let the phone drop.
“I’m proud of you,” Dawn said, with a big smile.
“Does it sound stupid if I say, ‘me too’?”
Now my friend shook her head, but the smile stayed put. “Not at all.”
And even though I was still shaken, and my pulse was racing, I returned her smile. I’d done it: told my mother what I thought and freed myself from her. Now the ball was in her court. It was up to her to decide whether we had a future.